Into the darkness

by Wendy Maddocks

  “Thought you might be,” he replied, trying to fold a shirt that belonged in a bin. Amber grabbed the shirt from him, screwed it up, and threw it on the floor in a rare show of temper. She didn’t say anything and walked back to her place. “Did you have fun?”

  “It was… an experience.” Why isn’t he furious with me for not letting him know? Plus: no awkward questions. Minus: he doesn’t really care.

  “Thought you might’ve called though. Or, have phones suddenly been banned down there?” It was meant as a light-hearted joke, but Amber really couldn’t see the funny side.

  “Dad, you are so clueless,” she groaned, running up to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her, before she said something she regretted.

  It didn’t matter to Richard that the girl occasionally got frustrated with him, and he didn’t mind that she spent much of her time alone or with that Alex lad. Coming and going as she pleased and unpredictable mood swings were all part and parcel of being a teenager… to a point. And Amber-Louise had long passed that point. They had exchanged, what, three sentences apiece when she walked in and even they were stilted. Why couldn’t she just talk to him like a real daughter?

  Upstairs, having changed into a pair of white combat trousers and a baby blue belly top, Amber-Louise sat on the floor to lace up her blue trainers. She reached a hand round and felt around for the two leather bound volumes she kept hidden there. It almost felt like coming home now, as she was about to confide in her diary. She hadn’t written in the journal since the day after her last birthday but it felt like an old friend. Her diary knew all her secrets, saw all the things that went on in her room, knew everything that she couldn’t, or wouldn’t tell anyone else.

  Well Diary, I guess you wouldn’t believe it but I’m back. I managed

  to escape my prison yesterday and I made it home at last. Early this

  morning actually. The last six months have been the longest and

  hardest of my life. Granted, I’ve been through some pretty rough

  times, but nothing like that.

  See, Liatruz (he’s the big, evil warlocky-typr) got some of his lackeys

  to hunt me down and take me to this big, white cell thingy. So, I

  managed to out-run them for a few days, hold them off like, but he

  must’ve put some kind of spell on them to make them resistant to my

  magick – which actually makes a funny kind of sense. And when they

  caught up with me, they Tasered me into a 10 week coma (which was

  the most boring part of it). My magick was no good in there, either,

  and I got punished if I tried to use anything. But I spent the last six

  weeks working on this spell that might help me get out. I never thought

  it would work but it did – I guess I should write it in my spell book if I

  can remember it. I think they only made it work against known things,

  but it might have just been ‘cos it was a really strong one which gave me

  a splitting headache! There were two parts to it; the first was one to

  weaken the magickal forcefield when the guards opened the door, and the second was just to jam the lock – that part didn’t work so good. But after

  that, it was no biggie to hack my way through the walls and the Black Masses. I picked up a few injuries along the way, but it’s gonna take more than a

  coma, being hunted like a dog, incarceration and a few cut and bruises to

  stop me.

  I wish I could talk to someone who’s been through this – one of the old

  Sisters. I just want to know what I’m supposed to do. I mean, I know I

  could talk to Alex but some things should stay private. Even if I did talk

  to him, it’d probably scare the stuffing out of him. Is it too much to ask

  to want someone to talk to who understands me. Yeah, I know he’s gonna

  kill me but, it’s not just something I can accept – it’s not that easy. I mean

  think of the stuff I’ll be leaving behind and I can’t let that happen again. I

  swore I’d get even with him for this and I’m gonna do that now. I know

  nothing in the book’s gonna work on him, but I’ll try anything. I’m fed up of

  this; him controlling everyone’s lives.

  It doesn’t really matter that Dad’s usually totally oblivious to what’s going on.

  It doesn’t even matter that he doesn’t take much notice of me some of the

  time; sometimes it’s even a relief when he doesn’t ask all those awkward

  questions. But, can’t he just try to bit a bit more concerned like any other

  father? I bet he wouldn’t even notice if I went away and never came back. I

  mean, how can he not know something’s up when I come home in torn

  clothes, or when I go missing for ages with no explanation. Course,

  everything would be so much easier if he knew but I can’t exactly say ‘Dad,

  I’m a witch’. Don’t get me wrong, I love being s witch and I wouldn’t give

  it up for anyone. But it’s hard keeping it all secret, especially when I can’t

  even tell my own dad.

  After she finished writing in her diary, Amber-Louise lay back on her pillows and tried to rest. But she soon found that she couldn’t stay still – it felt wrong to be relaxing when everything around her was so wrong. Every muscle in her body was tensed and ready for a fight. All her fingers were itching with the magick and fire bubbling away in her blood. It wasn’t just Liatruz and his gang that had her crumbling, but she had to have a talk with her father to try and forge a more normal relationship. But neither of them had ever known anything different – maybe this was normal. It was as if they both had something holding them back from being open with each other.

  Secrets.

  Amber-Louise opened the window and climbed onto the roof. From there, she dropped to the ground and rolled to her feet, barely making a sound. She stood up and started walking. Now, she knew, wasn’t the time to be talking to anyone – it was too soon, and there was too much to do. She needed to be alone, she needed to fight, she needed to get her head straight.

  She had to understand.

  Nicklewood was a pleasant enough town, more of a village really seeing as how the population numbered only 9000. There was a shopping centre, a multiscreen cinema, a TV studio and some other more modern features. Kathy Cotter had move here when she had split with her ex-husband, though she had remarried a couple of years ago. She’d got a job as a runner at the TV studio when it opened and had stayed there. They had since upgraded her to production assistant, though she still did most of the running about. Secretly, she just thought the company were too stingy to pay another but that didn’t bother her – she enjoyed her job and it paid well.

  It was when Kathy was washing the dishes and singing along to the radio that the phone rang. She looked down at her wet, soapy hands and sighed, rolling her eyes. “Great.” Whoever that us, you’ve got really bad timing. It rang a few more times before she dried her hands on the towel and went to answer it. “Hello? Oh, hi, Rich. No, I haven’t seen Amber in ages. Look, what’s going on? I don’t believe you.” She never believed him when he said that things were fine. “I’ve gotta go to work in a minute so call me later. You can tell me then.”

  Her niece had been missing for six months and now claimed that she had been with Kathy. She didn’t mind being used as a get out clause for a few days, but six months? The girl was always lying and making up stories. Kathy found herself, not for the first time, wishing that she’d tell the truth for once. Oh well, it wasn’t her problem anymore.

  Amber had been walking around a more or less deserted city for an hour and had already killed two of the Black Masses. It wasn’t just Alex’s name for them, it was the proper mystica
l name for them. Maybe Alex had known that when he christened them that. The girl found it easier to kill them if she thought of them as zombies with a pulse – not things with a name. Which, in effect, was all they really were. Zombies with pulses. On the outside, they were obviously still very much alive; but on the inside, they were dead. “Wanted… Dead or alive,” she sang to herself. “If you want me – come and get me. Come on, Liatruz, don’t let me down now,” she dared, almost letting herself believe that he didn’t know she had escaped. Of course he knows I’m out. This is probably all part of his big plan. Lull me into a false sense of security, then set the big guns on me.

  Lost in her thoughts, Amber blew out all her breath as she was forcefully knocked to the ground by a black blur. It took a moment for the dazed young witch to get her eyes to focus on the figure looming over her. “We will not allow you to kill any more of our people.”

  A tiny beam of white light extended from her index finger to push the figure back to a safe distance as she scrambled to her feet. “Nah. I’m not really the taking-orders type.” She frowned. “And since when did you become people, anyway?”

  “You are a threat to our kind.”

  “I know. It’s good, isn’t it?”

  “You wish to destroy us.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s actually a very good thing.” Amber-Louise coughed and used her whole hand to hold him back. “See, ‘cos this is my town, and these are my friends, and I’m here to take them back. If killing every last one of you lot is what I have to do for that – I’ll do it.” She was glad no-one was around to hear that – bad speech. But I’ll be damned if I’m just gonna let him have the run of my town. A ball of silver-grey energy grew in her other hand. When it had grown to its maximum, she threw it at her former art teacher and watched her melt? That gave Amber a weird sense of closure and she felt only the tiniest bit of guilt about it. Mrs Legge was infamous for being Millford High’s toughest marker, and had failed her art exam last year. She had often wondered when she would get the chance to get her own back. In fact, a few happy hours had been spent plotting her revenge, but never had she imagined that it would be so final. “I told you hadn’t seen the last of me.” She bent down and touched a finger to the puddle of black sludge; it had the consistency of custard and she stared at the black tip of her finger.

  “Nice speech,” said a familiar male voice. “Did you mean it?”

  She knew it was Alex without even turning to look. “Mean what?”

  “About killing them all to get your friends back. Will you?”

  “If I have to. I mean, technically, some of them are my friends but, if I have to. I’ll do whatever I need to do.” She turned to look up at Alex with her big, green eyes. There was something there that Alex didn’t recognise’ “But I can’t do this on my own, Alex. I’ll need your help.”

  Now he realized what it was – she was vulnerable. “I got your back, kiddo,” he promised. He took her hand and led her across the road to sit down with her on the windowsill of one of the abandoned shops. “Amber-Lou.” He was the only person allowed to call her that; she got upset if anyone else it. “I want you to do something for me.”

  “Sure, anything. What is it?”

  “I want you to go home and have a proper talk with your dad.” Amber opened her mouth to protest so Alex quickly moved on before she could convince him that it wasn’t a good idea. “No, you don’t have to tell him where you’ve been, or what you dream every night, or that you’re a witch if you’re not ready for it. I just want you to be like a regular father and daughter. It’s hard to see you so detached.”

  “I suppose we do have some issues to get through.”

  “You two seem so far away from each other, it’s sometimes hard to believe you’re actually related. It doesn’t take a genius to see that there’s something wrong with that.”

  “I wish this wasn’t so hard. See if Dad’s game for a deep and meaningful.”

  Richard Tully was working at his computer when he heard a key rattle in the lock. Just as Amber-Louise walked in the door, he saved his work, logged off and turned to her. He didn’t want her to think that he didn’t care, but, at the same time, he didn’t want her to keep lying to him. How could she have been at her aunts when she had come back so badly hurt, and even Kathy denied it? A lot of the time, he wanted to ask her about her where-abouts and what she had been doing but he couldn’t force her to tell him anything. The only things she would tell him like that would be more lies. “Hey, what happened to your shirt and your arm?”

  “That’s a very good question.” If only he knew how much I hate lying to him. In truth, she had been so intent on getting home that she hadn’t noticed the long, jagged tear in her top, or that the fast-healing gash on her arm had reopened and blood was seeping down her skin. “I’m not gonna lie to you. I think we need to talk.”

  The sun was just beginning to set when Alex arrived at the pile of rubble which had once been Millford South Library. Half a mile down the main street was the rebuilt Central City Library, which had been constructed five years after a gang of arsonists had decided to burn it to the ground. If you stood in the right place you could just about see the tip of the clock tower. Most of the books had been burnt in the fire and some of them had been old, rare and irreplaceable. He just didn’t know how anyone could be capable something that special. Still, the ruins were as good a place as any to sit and think, or just hang out. It was usually littered with fast-food wrappers and drinks cans left by gangs of kids who used the site as a meeting place. The area had been fenced off and a big yellow and black sign was fixed to the chain-link fence saying KEEP OUT: DANGER ZONE but some bright spark had ripped a hole in one corner big enough to slither through.

  He ducked underneath it and wandered around the fallen bricks and stones in the fading daylight. There was no sign that anyone had been there in a long time – though he noticed that the rocks underfoot had moved. Maybe they had been moved before and he just hadn’t noticed. Alex usually kept near the edges of this site but found himself walking through the centre of it. For one blissful moment, he forgot the danger he could be in whilst the sky was still touched by the last few rays of the sun. His trainers made dusty prints in the dirt and he kicked at it over a large piece of thin wood.

  “Mom! Dad!” he called out quietly. “I know you can’t hear me from where-ever you are, but I really need to talk to you. So much has happened in the last 24 hours. Amber-Lou came back today and she’s… I don’t know, just different.” He felt like he could talk to his parents here. He thought it was the quiet – he could pretend that they were close. “Things will change. I’m not sure if it’ll get back to normal or not but we can’t stay this way forever, right? That really freaks me out. He’s got you two and I’m gonna help get you back. I’m scared for her ‘cos I know how powerful this guy is, and I know that, sooner or later-“

  “He will kill her,” someone finished for him. Alex turned round, hands curled into fists at his sides. He almost made the mistake of relaxing his fists as he recognised the face of one of his college friends, but then realised that all his clothes were black.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want that girl for my master.” He reached forward and gripped Alex’s shoulder, drawing the tiniest amount of blood with his sharp nails. “Where is she?”

  Alex tried to push him away with his hands, and bit back tears as his grip tightened. “She’s somewhere you’ll never get her.” He screamed as he was pushed back with enough force to land him on the opposite side of a large rock. “she’s protected.” The ex-friend jumped up on the rock and looked down at Alex.

  “Where?” When he got no answer, he crouched down and circled his hands around Alex’s neck, applying just enough pressure to let him breathe and move, but also to slightly worry him. “Relax; I’m not going to hurt you.”

&nb
sp; Alex looked down at the tiny spots of blood that had appeared on his grey t-shirt. “I believe you.” Then he looked up at the dark night sky, hiding the smile of triumph on his lips.

  His attacker looked up too, just realising that it was night. He let go and backed away quickly, uttered a warning and turned away. “He will kill her!”

  “How can he kill her when she’s already dead?” I know what she’d say to that. She’d go ‘I seem to be somewhat alive’. Picking himself up from where he sat, Alex looked up to the stars. “He’s already killed you.”

  “Umm, no, he hasn’t.” Alex jumped at the sound, but refused to look at her until she physically turned him around. “See – standing here, very much alive. What were you doing out here before, I’m guessing, you got mauled.”

  “I was talking. To my parents.” Suddenly he wanted to look anywhere but at his best friend – the confession sounded silly out loud.

  “They can’t hear you, you know.”

  “I like to think they can. I like to think they’re out there somewhere.” He wrapped an arm around her and tilted his head to the sky. “Somewhere.”

  “Well, you’ll be pleased to hear that I had The Talk with Dad.” Amber laid her head on his shoulder. “And it lasted more than a minute.”

  “Better than expected actually. I didn’t tell him anything that only you know – I just don’t think he could handle it at the moment. But, we did get a few things out in the open.”

  “Such as?” he prompted.

  “He said that he does get worried when I go AWOL, but he doesn’t freak out or anything ‘cos he knows I can take care of myself. Which I thought was kinda sweet. An, for the last six months, he knows I wasn’t at my aunts but I said I had to think and stuff.”

  “So, you lied,” he concluded.

  “No. I didn’t lie. I was creative with the truth.”

  “So, you lied.”

  “I lied,” she admitted, resignedly. “Do you come here to talk to your mom and dad every night?”